A Stranger Left an Envelope Beside My Bed on My Sixty-Second Birthday—Then I Found His Photograph with My Son
A way to pull you somewhere.
We don’t know.”
The uncertainty irritated me.
I wanted at least the cruelty to be clear.
Frank watched my face.
“Knowing why doesn’t change what’s in the picture.”
He was right.
I had evidence that two men knew each other.